


Always Bring a Cream Pie to a First Date

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Two Bisexuals Walk Into a Coffee Shop [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Bisexual Cara Dune, Bisexual Din Djarin, Dirty Jokes, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Flirting, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Puns & Word Play, Single Dad Din Djarin, smitten idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: "I brought a treat for your cock," she proudly announces."I can see that," he replies, trying in his best not to look too blatantly distracted by her cleavage.Cara quirks a brow very eloquently. "Hope he doesn't get too excited.""Too late, I'm afraid," he confesses, stepping aside to finally let her in. It took him a while for his brain to catch up and remember they can't have a whole date on his doorstep. Not with such nosy neighbours, anyway.Cara giggles and walks in, holding up something in her other hand. Only now Din notices she's carrying a pan, and it smells delicious."I guess this is the wrong moment to tell you I made a pie?" she asks with absolute innocence.Din eyes the pan: it's covered in tin foil but the buttery smell oozing from it is rather unmistakable."Is that-"Cara smirks mischievously and uncovers the pan.Yes, it is:cream pie."I'm a horrible person.""Yes, you are." Din issonot going to get out of this date mentally sane. "No more home dinners for you.""No?" Cara pouts, and Din shakes his head dramatically."Only eating out.”
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Two Bisexuals Walk Into a Coffee Shop [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671397
Comments: 49
Kudos: 136





	1. Of Cream Pies & Eating Out

**Author's Note:**

> It took me forever but I finally did it! Sort of. As usual, things got out of control and what was supposed to be a oneshot turned into a two-shot because it was seriously getting too long.
> 
> Warning: this fic, like the previous, it's FULL of dirty jokes and relentless flirting. These two have no shame.

Rationally, Din knows perfectly well that the sound of his door bell ringing shouldn't make him feel so excited.

Rationally, he knows he only met Cara Dune one day and a half ago and shouldn't really be so happy to know she's finally here.

Irrationally, he couldn't care less about any of that.

He spent almost the whole day browsing interesting recipes on Pinterest in between baby duty and actual house chores. He didn't want Cara to think he is an inept parent, even though the house does look like a mess most of the time. He's going to get one of those _'Bless this mess'_ signs to hang somewhere, at some point; he feels like he deserves one.

Luca fell asleep over an hour ago after a whole night and a whole day of restlessness that granted Din the arguable luxury of three fantastic hours of sleep between four and seven in the morning and now he doesn't even dare to get anywhere close to a mirror, afraid of what he'll see. If Cara gets scared away by his paleness and the shades under his eyes, he surely won't blame her.

 _She won't,_ says a little voice inside his head, and he smiles stupidly to himself, because he knows it's true.

He's just put the lasagna in the oven when the bell finally rings, causing his heart to leap. He's been checking the time every two minutes for twenty minutes, and finally she's here, with an elegant delay of three whole minutes during which Din somehow managed to think of about one thousand different scenarios, all of which ending with him eating the whole pan of lasagna alone with a bottle of red wine.

He gets rid of the apron, then changes his mind and puts it back on: _'Kiss the Cook'_ seems like a good slogan to welcome a gorgeous guest.

He goes to open the door with a big, shameless grin, and when Cara Dune's beautiful face appears in front of him his heart leaps.

It's summer, so he shouldn't be as surprised as he is to see her wearing a tank top and shorts – though maybe _surprised_ isn't the most accurate term.

"Hey," he greets.

"Hey yourself," she grins.

Din takes her in head to toe – the sun-kissed skin, the toned legs, the glorious sight offered by the low neckline of her top – and his mouth is suddenly dry.

"You look-"

"No obvious comments," she warns playfully. "Don't disappoint me."

"- smart?"

A spark of amusement sparks in Cara's eyes.

"Nice save," she admits. “That a requirement?” she asks with a nod to the writing across the front of his apron.

Din shrugs, praying he doesn't seem too hopeful.

“It's up to you, I guess. I won't mention the fact that I put it on specifically for you, that would probably influence your decision and I'm not that kind of pers-”

Cara places a hand upon his chest and leans forward to smack her lips at the corner of his mouth, pulling back with a chuckle.

“If it makes you feel better,” she conveys. “I didn't need any influence. One can't just say no to such a cute apron.”

Din's pulse is still skyrocketing from the kiss, which is kind of pathetic, considering he's had much milder reactions to much more explicit displays of affection. A simple peck on the cheek isn't supposed to be this hot, nor is he supposed to get a heart attack from it.

Cara raises something to his attention, a small box of what looks like dried berries.

"I brought a treat for your cock," she proudly announces.

"I can see that," he replies, trying in his best not to look too blatantly distracted by her cleavage.

Cara quirks a brow very eloquently. "Hope he doesn't get too excited."

"Too late, I'm afraid," he confesses, stepping aside to finally let her in. It took him a while for his brain to catch up and remember they can't have a whole date on his doorstep. Not with such nosy neighbours, anyway.

Cara giggles and walks in, holding up something in her other hand. Only now Din notices she's carrying a pan, and it smells delicious.

"I guess this is the wrong moment to tell you I made a pie?" she asks with absolute innocence.

Din eyes the pan: it's covered in tin foil but the buttery smell oozing from it is rather unmistakable.

"Is that-"

Cara smirks mischievously and uncovers the pan.

Yes, it is: _cream pie._

"I'm a horrible person."

"Yes, you are." Din is _so_ not going to get out of this date mentally sane. "No more home dinners for you."

"No?" Cara pouts, and Din shakes his head dramatically.

"Only eating out.”

He meets her gaze and finds it glimmering with a silent laugh. He admires her ability to keep her composure; he doesn't even know how he can keep up with her dirty puns when his brain cells have been smothered by her mere appearance, but maybe she didn't notice.

"I thought Martin wanted to meet Clawdia?" she teases, letting him take the pie from her hands.

"Cream pie and _then_ eating out?" Din suggests as he guides her to the dining room.

"Sounds juicy."

He snorts out the most undignified laugh.

"You're gonna kill me by the end of the dinner."

"Don't be ridiculous," she chuckles. "Halfway through, tops."

 _No kidding,_ he thinks. He's a little in awe of this woman. He's dated dozens of girls in his life and not even once he felt this funny flutter in his stomach. Are these the butterflies everyone talks so much about?

He sets the pie on the table, which he absolutely didn't spent three ours laying and decorating with the flowers from his own garden, then turns to Cara:

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Just water, please.”

He gives her a surprised look that makes her shrug in return.

“I'm an MMA fighter and coach,” she explains “Alcohol is restricted."

Din's jaw nearly drops. Not only she could easily break his heart, but also every single bone in his body. He might be officially in love.

"Just when I thought you couldn't be any hotter."

He pours her some water and hands her the glass. She takes a sip before asking:

"What do _you_ do for a living?"

"I'm a cop,” he says. “On paternity leave for a few months, but a cop nonetheless.”

"Oh?” Cara sends him an intrigued look. “You put handcuffs on naughty people?"

He smirks from above his glass of wine. "Only if they ask nicely."

“I'm sure they all do.”

Din nods, a bit absently. His look keeps straying south, to the very alluring slope of Cara's breasts. He feels bad about this because _that_ is absolutely _not_ why he likes her so much, but he's only human and there is _so much_ to see, there..

"Hey?” Cara snaps her fingers under his nose. “My eyes are up here, man."

Din blinks at her as he looks up in an exaggerated display of shock.

"Wait. _You have eyes?"_

Cara gives him a slow nod as she bites her lower lip to stifle a flattered grin.

"Keep working. Clawdia is warming up."

 _Clawdia si definitely not the only one who's warming up,_ Din thinks. If they keep this up, they will probably end up against a wall with their tongues buried in each other's throats, and he doesn't want this. Well, he _does,_ but not like this. Cara deserves better than that and he really wants to make things work between them

"Shall we bring your treat to Martin?" he proposes, hoping a little bit of fresh air will soothe the rising heat in the atmosphere.

Cara follows him into the garden. Din is very proud of it: it's lush and green and the flowerbeds are tidy and full of colours. Luca loves them, though sometimes the flowers don't survive his clumsly enthusiasm.

“Marty?” Din calls, looking around. “Come here, buddy, someone very special wants to meet you!”

Cara pokes his ribs with her elbow at 'someone very special', but seems to have nothing to complain about it.

It takes a couple of seconds but Martin finally comes running out of the bushes lining the garden; Cara lets out a gasp of surprise when he careens straight toward her with his wings spread wide to salute her.

"Oh my-” She laughs as Martin starts circling around her like the crazy bird he is. This is his way of saying hello to the people he likes, though it's not many, and even those rare times people mistake his cheerfulness for aggression.

But Cara doesn't: she laughs and couches down to stroke his feathery head and laughs again as he tries to hop onto her lap.

“Is this a puppy disguised as a bird?” she giggles, glancing up at Din while Martin snuggles into her arms. “Hello, buddy. Your dad wasn't kidding: you really are a monster cock."

Din is baffled: he's never seen Martin so friendly with anyone except himself and Luca. He takes it as yet another sign he and Cara were destined to meet.

"It's a particularly large breed,” he says, still vaguely astonished. “He's very loyal, very protective of this home. He's usually kind of aggressive with strangers, actually."

Cara grins modestly. "I guess your cock instinctually likes me."

Din chuckles. "I'm sure that happens to a lot of cocks."

Cara lets Martin hop off her legs and saunter away to disappear into his humble abode, which Cara hadn't noticed yet.

"Oh my god. You pet cock has a little house with a little white picket fence and his name on the door."

“He does,” Din struts. He's very proud of it: he personally built every single part of it, from the wooden panels to the thermal insulation, and he can still remember with dreadful accuracy every single curse he uttered the several times he everything collapsed under his hands.

"I made it the night my ex was in labour,” he mutters before he can stop himself. This is a sore spot, he can't understand why he's bringing it up. If he wanted to ruin the mood, this was an excellent first step.

But it's too late to take it back and Cara is waiting for him to go on, so he really doesn't have a choice, now.

He digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugs nonchalantly.

“She didn't want me there when Luca was born. I was going insane... I had to find something to keep me occupied."

The light on Cara's face fades, replaced by a blue shade of sympathy that wrecks its way to Din's heart before he can arm himself against it.

"I'm sorry,” she whispers. “It was really cruel of her."

He detects rage in her voice.

"I was too glad she didn't get an abortion to protest. Luca is here, now, that's all I care about.” He tries to regain some composure. He wants the easy, flirty atmosphere back.

He dares a smile meeting her eyes.

“Maybe there will be other chances in the future."

Cara's brows furrow in disbelief. She swats his arm playfully.

"You already thinking about putting a baby in me?"

Din growls inwardly at the mere thought of _that._

He feels an irresistible urge to kiss her. Not just her lips, inviting as they are, but all of her and further – her soul, her humour, her wit...

He's completely, unapologetically _smitten._

He coyly leans closer to her and whispers: "Can't say I haven't been thinking about the necessary process."

Judging from the shameless flush rising to her cheeks, he can tell she's been definitely thinking about it, too.

Cara feeds her dried berries to Martin and gets a very excited strut in return. It makes her laugh. Din finds out he adores this woman's laugh, the light it brings to her eyes.

“That's cock for _'I love you',”_ he translates, and Cara smirks:

“That's what all cocks do when they like what they see.”

This is... damn good.

Din has never been an extrovert: he's always had trouble connecting with other people, especially strangers, but Cara caught him by surprise in the best way, and now he can't seem to get enough of her. She just arrived and he's already worried about the moment he'll have to bid her good night and watch her go.

He tries not to think about it as they leave Martin to his treats and head back inside. He leads her to the kitchen, where the oven is on and their dinner is baking, spreading a very promising smell all around the house.

"Sorry about the mess,” he babbles, trying to gather some of the clutter scattered on the counter. Between baby stuff and kitchen supplies, the place looks like a landfill. “The lasagna required more effort than I thought."

"Ugh, you _cook.”_ Cara makes a whiny face. “I might as well go straight down on one knee, at this point."

It's Din's turn to blush, and he doesn't even care if she notices. He feels at ease with her, like he can forget about inhibitions and just be himself.

"Martin would be very happy,” he says. “But I'm not really comfortable with doing that with Luca around."

"Fair enough.”

While Din keeps collecting stuff from all over the kitchen, Cara bends in front of the oven to check inside – something she absolutely shouldn't be allowed to do in those shorts, because the sight she provides is _sinful,_ and probably not even accidental.

“This smells _so_ good,” she purrs. “It's- Oh, shit.” She throws her head back as she straightens up with a groan. She eyes him sheepishly: “I didn't mention I'm lactose-intolerant, did I?"

Din forces himself to rip his attention off her legs (of course, _of course_ her legs had to be smooth and toned and _so_ soft-looking); if she did mention her intolerance to lactose, he can't blame himself for missing it, can he? Her whole person is a distraction.

"No. But I'm a vegan, so you're in luck."

He patiently waits for her to scowl, scrunch her nose and make some pungent comment about rabbit food and real meals, but none of it comes. Cara, actually, seems more intrigued by the coincidence per se.

"Looks like we're just meant to be.”

Just what he was thinking.

"How many signs are we entitled to ignore before we admit we're soulmates?"

Cara glances at the writing on his apron, then up at him. She smiles.

"Did we need any more signs after the shirts?”

"I guess you have a point.”

Cara is still eyeing his apron. Her teeth keep nibbling at her lower lip, and this image is putting _other_ images in Din's head – his hands grabbing her face, pulling her to himself and up into a kiss...

An idea starts tickling him. He grins, and a slight frown appears on Cara's features.

“What-”

Without a word, Din pulls the apron above his head and swiftly places it around Cara's neck.

“Well,” he says, considering the slogan, now happily resting upon _her_ chest. “How the tables have turned...”

Cara bites her lip again, this time with a flattered grin. She takes a step forward, head tipping back; her lips are red and swollen from the nibbling, practically _demanding_ to be tasted. Din cranes his neck, pulse spiking again, and slowly-

The baby monitor in the back pocket of his jeans goes off with Luca's cranky wailing. Din freezes a couple of excruciating inches from Cara's mouth and pulls back with an nervous half laugh.

Did they really almost-

“There he is," he sighs apologetically. Cara places an indulgent hand on his chest.

"Go get him. I'll check the lasagna."

She reaches behind her back to fasten the apron and gingerly goes to the oven. As he heads upstairs, Din can't shake off the feeling of her body so close to his for those glorious few seconds he thought he would finally get to kiss her.

Luca stops crying as soon as he picks him up, meaning he's just hungry and knows he's about to get his bottle.

“One day I'll tell you about this moment,” Din whispers to him. “And it will be when you have some very pretty friend over. Revenge will be sweet, son, I promise.”

Downstairs, he finds Cara has already turned the oven off and is pouring herself another glass of water.

"Guess who decided they had enough sleep?" he says as he enters the kitchen with Luca nestled in the crook of his arm.

Cara beams.

"Hey, little guy! Did you wanna check if me and your dad were behaving?" She sends Din a meaningful smirk and he lets out a helpless laugh.

“He does have an awful timing.”

“I've noticed.”

“I meant he usually starts crying when I just stepped into the shower.”

Cara snorts. “We would have needed one, if he hadn't stopped us.”

Did she just imply that things would have taken a very _heated_ direction, hadn't Luca interrupted them?

“I'm going to have to feed him,” he announces. He's glad he had this excuse to break the dangerous electricity in the atmosphere. “It's not going to take long.”

Luca starts fussing again

“Take as long as you need. Mind if I use the bathroom, in the meantime?”

“Second door on the right.” He points at the hallway right beside Cara. “There are clean towels under the sink,” he adds as she walks away. “Please, don't shower without me.”

Cara pauses halfway there, to shoot him a sultry glance from over her shoulder.

“Can't promise anything.”

Din can't help staring while she reaches the bathroom. The swing of her hips in those shorts is probably the most erotic thing he's ever seen, and he's absolutely positive she _knows._

“I'm fucked, kid,” he murmurs to Luca as he sits down on the living room couch with the warm bottle in one hand and the baby squirming against his chest. "So, so fucked."

Luca's hands greedily reach for his bottle as soon as Din rises it to his mouth. Din will never tire of this – Luca's sweet face relaxing as he suckles his milk, and those happy little noises he makes... It makes his heart swell with love.

There is only one thing missing to make this moment of domestic bliss perfect – _complete._

Din closes his eyes for a moment, imagining Cara coming from the kitchen with two glasses of wine in her hands, a smile on her lips. She places the glasses on the coffee table, runs a hand through his hair before sitting beside him on the couch. Maybe she would even drop a kiss to his forehead.

It's such a vivid picture in his mind that he can almost feel it, the warm, gentle touch of her lips, her scent all around him...


	2. Why Not Both?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cara and Din make a cream pie and put on a show in front of a neighbour. Also, Din might be a little in love. (Maybe a lot.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last time [scarlett2u](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlett2u/pseuds/scarlett2u) had a few questions... Let's answer them one by one:
> 
>  _Will we be seeing Cara at the gym at some point?_   
> I'm not sure how far this series will go and I do have another draft about Cara being an MMA fighter, so maybe I'll save gym-sweaty and flushed Cara for that one. ;)
> 
>  _Is Clawdia miffed that she gets left home alone?  
> _ Clawdia is a pussy cat, so she is _always_ miffed about everything, BUT her mum loves her very much and never lets her feel neglected.
> 
>  __Are these two ever gonna be allowed a serious smooch?  
>  Oh, I don't know... Guess you'll have to read and see for yourself. :)

Someone is singing.

No, someone is _humming a song._

Funny.

Din slowly opens his eyes and thinks he's probably still dreaming: there is light everywhere, and this is not his bedroom. He realises all the other wrong things one by one as he comes to: he's lying on the couch; Luca is nowhere to be seen; his whole body feels rigid and sore but his mind is blissfully restored.

Now he remembers: he was sitting here and must have fallen asleep.

He fell asleep feeding Luca.

Where is Luca, by the way?

And Cara?

Fuck. _Cara._

The date.

He ruined his date with Cara falling asleep like an idiot.

He pulls himself up with a groan, his joints creaking in agony. He can't believe he fell asleep with an almost stranger over. He's a very rational person, he has no idea how he came to trust Cara so _irrationally_ and so blindly, but he does, and nothing can change this.

Where is she, now?

_And where is Luca?_

The house is so quiet...

Trying to ignore the ache in his whole body, Din gets himself up from the couch and suddenly realises the humming he was hearing was not the coda of a dream: it's real.

He follows the sound like it's calling to him. It leads him to the kitchen, where for a moment he gets blinded by the brightness of the light pouring through the large window. He blinks a couple of times and a picture, surreal as it is, starts coming into focus before him: Cara is standing by the counter with Luca nestled in the curve of her arm, safely tucked against her chest as she's feeding his bottle to him with a soft smile lingering on her lips.

Din's heart seems to stop for a second, then his pulse starts climbing as a strange sense of warmth spreads its tendrils all across his body. His mouth falls open.

The white light behind Cara outlines the perfect hourglass of her figure, accompanying her slow swaying with an aura of peace that he doesn't dare to interrupt, afraid that, once the spell is broken, it will never be this perfect again.

It takes a couple of minutes for Cara to notice his presence. She looks up and smiles, and Din wonders what she must be thinking, seeing him standing there like an idiot, gaping at her in what he supposes is quite unmistakable _awe._

"Hey," she greets in a whisper.

Din can't take his eyes off Luca: he's so calm and relaxed, as though Cara's arms were a familiar place for him to be, safe and reassuring. She seems to know very well what she's doing with him, and this comes as a little shock, because she didn't strike Din as a babies person.

“Hey,” he greets back, unable to keep a tinge of amazement from his voice. He can't shake off the thought that this, _all of this,_ feels exactly like it's supposed to be: a baby rocked in a mother's loving embrace, _cherished,_ not cruelly rejected. It's weird how he wants to grin and cry at the same time.

Cara gives him a quick once-over, smirking as her eyes venture just below his waist.

"I see Martin has risen."

Din looks down at the bulge in his pants and lets out a small laugh that, surprisingly, isn't remotely uncomfortable.

"Don't you dare blame him."

Cara giggles. “I would never dare. I have mirrors at home, you know?”

Din is absolutely smitten. He's so gone for this girl it's not even funny any more: he's actually getting a little worried, because he's falling so fast and so deep he's afraid he'll end up getting hurt inadvertently.

But the way Cara is looking at him, so intensely and intently... it's like she, too, is thinking what he's thinking. Maybe she's afraid just like he is of how fast things are evolving between them.

Din can't believe his luck for meeting such an incredible woman. She doesn't seem offended that he ruined their date, and not just that: she even stayed to look after Luca and let Din _sleep._ Is Cara Dune even real?

“Why didn't you wake me?” he can't help asking, a bit sheepishly. It's a bit hard to focus because he just realised she's wearing one of his t-shirts – _only that_ – and he keeps getting distracted by the very enticing sight of her bare legs when she moves.

“You looked so peaceful...” she starts saying, then notices his stare. “Sorry,” she adds with an apologetic little smile that almost brings tears to Din's eyes for how beautiful it is. “I had to borrow this. Your little gremlin puked all over my clothes last night."

He forbids himself to picture her stripping in his laundry room: there is no need to excite poor Martin more than he already is.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear him cry-"

"I got him before it got loud,” Cara clarifies. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't have the heart to disturb you. You looked like you needed it."

Din exhales a brief, grateful sigh. "I did. You fed him last night, too?"

"Finished what you started,” she winks. “Then bathed him, changed him, and put him back to sleep. Full service.”

She pulls away the empty bottle and sets it on the counter, then puts Luca over her shoulder and delicately starts patting his back. It's such a perfect picture Din can't help thinking once again that it's like this was meant to be all along.

“Don't look at me like that,” Cara giggles, intercepting his enchanted stare. “I did a lot of babysitting as a teen."

She really couldn't be any more amazing if she tried. Din would like to tell her how this is such a reassurance to him, because he knows nothing about babies and he's just learning as he goes, and sometimes he makes the most embarrassing mistakes. To know she might be here to help him, even just occasionally, ignite a sparkle of hope he didn't know he needed so desperately. It's crazy how he went from a girlfriend he didn't want to have anything to do with her own child to a stranger – almost-girlfriend? – who seems to be the living embodiment of everything he dreamed of in a partner.

There are so many things we wants to say, but his tongue only manages to spit out a very quiet and very awkward "Thank you."

"No problem. We actually had fun, didn't we, buddy?” Cara turns her face toward Luca and grins at him. “He really likes water."

"He does,” he finds himself breathing before he even know. He's completely hypnotised by the sweetness with which Cara is holding Luca as she waits for him to burp. “Is it weird,” he begins in some sort of haze. “That seeing you like this turns me on more than watching you swing your hips in those ridiculously sexy shorts?"

It makes Cara laugh, her eyes turning into dark crescents sparking in the morning light. The silent longing in Din's heart roars, rattling in his ribcage like a starving prisoner tired of being locked away.

"Might be the fact that I'm wearing your shirt,” Cara jokes. “You know, territory marking and everything."

Din crosses his arms and leans against the door frame with a half smile.

"Or because you're holding my child like he's something precious and not an annoyance."

"Or both?" Cara offers defiantly.

He didn't think it possible, but there is an actual _blush_ creeping up her cheeks. It brightens up her whole face, making her even more beautiful. Din has never felt such a mighty need to kiss anyone before.

"Yeah,” he nods in mock wistfulness as he crosses the room to stand in front of her. “Could be both."

Cara's eyes rise to meet his and their darkness takes his breath away. He doesn't know what moves his hands to her hips, what gives him the insane boldness to tug her closer to himself and look down at her lips and holds his breath from how badly he wants to taste them.

Cara leans forward, arms still wrapped around Luca's back, and breaks into a coy grin.

"Are you about to kiss me, Din?" she mutters huskily.

This is crazy: they've known each other for less than two days, there shouldn't be these sparks flying between them, this irresistible attracting drawing them together as a gravity of their own. But it's happening, and this feels too good, too _right_ to deny it any longer.

"May I?" he asks hesitantly. It's so hard to believe a woman like her _wants_ him.

Cara tilts her head to one side until her ear touches Luca's back; she bites her lip as a sultry smirk stretches it.

"Depends on how good a kisser you are,” she argues. “Don't wanna accidentally drop the ba-"

Their hips collide as they lips collide, and both let out a moan of pleasure when they finally get a taste of each other. Cara is maddeningly soft but he can feel the taut lines of her muscles under his palms as he slides them down her thighs and up again in a blind search for _more._ She dives into the kiss with eager enthusiasm, grinning through it while one of her hands leaves Luca to cup the side of Din's neck and tug him down, her thumb tracing the contour of his jawline, fingers raking into his hair, pulling hungrily.

There is a crisp, wet sound when they pull apart, gasping for air. Both are grinning like pathetic lovebirds.

Din seeks her lips one more time, unable to give up the wonderful feeling of them, so soft and full, upon his own, then, breathlessly, he lets his forehead lean against hers in sweet surrender.

"Good?" he pants.

Cara's hand comes up to his cheek; she's smiling at him in the devilish way of hers that never fails to turn his knees to mush.

"I don't know,” she murmurs. “We should try again, just to make sure."

Din doesn't need to be told twice. It takes more than just one more kiss to sate their hunger for each other. They kiss again, and again, until it feels like second nature and they've forgotten how to breathe. The semblance of a whole lifetime condenses into the past couple of days, and hours turn to months, years, even. They haven't known each other for two days: they've known each other since forever.

They break apart only when Luca's sudden burp makes them both jump in surprise. They relax into a little laugh and congratulate Luca for the remarkable performance. It's way too easy, Din muses, to get lost in how _natural_ all of this feels.

"I know I'm not supposed to be so taken with you already,” he whispers to Cara with a pang of guilt in his chest. “But-"

Cara raises her shoulders indulgently.

"It's crazy, isn't it? It doesn't feel like we met just the day before yesterday."

"I was already a goner the day before yesterday."

He's not ashamed to admit it. He know she can feel this inexplicable chemistry, too, and he doesn't want to waste another single second pretending it's not there.

Cara rises on her tiptoes to place one last kiss at the corner of Din's mouth, then hints at the table.

"Come on, sit down. Breakfast is ready."

Only now Din sees the pile of pancakes at the centre of the table, along with a bowl of fruit salad and a very neat arrangement of everything his cupboard had to offer.

"You cooked?" he says in sheer wonder. She must be an excellent cook if she could make such flawless pancakes out of his vegan pantry.

Cara nods smugly. "Cooked, did the laundry, fed Martin. That little shit is _really_ ravenous, by the way."

"You shouldn't have."

"Why not?” Cara places Luca into his portable carrier next to Din, then takes her seat across from them. “I was awake and full of energy, and you were blatantly beat. Now you have decent clean clothes, by the way,” she adds, chuckling. “You can stop wearing cheeky t-shirts."

Din suddenly realises how younger than him she truly is: he must have at least seven or eight years on her, he can tell by how fresh her face looks, even without make up. Can a middle-aged single father really be what an incredible young woman like Cara really wants for herself?

He doesn't even need to ask. He has the answer right in before himself: Cara sitting here with him and Luca with that serene expression gracing her face and the whole room, enjoying their company as though _she_ was the lucky one. Din can't erase the heart-warming picture of her rocking Luca while feeding him; it's something he would be happy to wake up to every day for the rest of his life.

"I guess my days picking up gorgeous strangers in coffee shops are over."

The light blush lingering on Cara's cheeks intensifies.

"Until you run out of clean clothes again?"

"I'm afraid no one will measure up to the last gorgeous stranger I picked up."

"You're just saying that because I've basically played housewife for you while you snored."

Her playful tone carries no reproach. She's just teasing, and Din can't even begin to explain how grateful he is for what she did for him without even being asked.

"One of the reasons, yes,” he confirms. He observes her as she tales the orange juice and pours some in her glass, her tongue sticking between her teeth as she does so. He wonders is she's aware of that, if she knows how cute she is.

“I'm sorry I fell asleep.”

Cara arches her eyebrows at him.

"Buddy, you were exhausted. You should have called off the date, or moved it to a better mome-"

"I wanted to see you,” he blurts before he can stop himself. He's about to apologise for interrupting her, but two adorable dimples appear in Cara's cheeks while a big, flattered smile spreads across her lips.

"You don't pull your punches, do you?"

Din returns the smile. "Not with such a fierce adversary."

Cara meets his look with a provocative smirk.

"I'm pretty sure those soft eyes are against the rules.”

Din takes a meaningful glance at her.

"What can my soft eyes do against this soft... everything?"

Cara has to lower her glass and hastily swallow her juice before the laughter erupting from her chest makes her spit it all out.

"You're such a dirty player,” she chides, setting the glass back down.

"I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, here,” says Din innocently. “A little credit would be appreciated."

"You've got a beautiful heart, I'll concede that."

"Is it lame if I play a _beautiful everything_ card again?"

"Lame,” she confirms. “And a little redundant. But keep going, I'm kinda warming up to obvious remarks."

They eat their breakfast in between a constant back and forth of flirty lines and innuendos that make them chortle like silly kids. It's a miracle they don't wake up Luca.

Din gets lost several times in observing Cara – the way she licks the maple syrup off her fingers, how she moans in delight at the first pancake bite she gets. He's slipped into full adoration mode and can feel himself falling in love by the moment.

He's just finished his second serving of pancakes when he suggests they try the cream pie, and Cara's face suddenly falls.

"Damn. This is dairy free but not egg free,” she groans, smacking a hand on her forehead. “I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"We can make a vegan one?" he proposes.

Cara shoots him a mischievous look.

"You ever made a cream pie before?"

"No,” he admits, just as mischievously. “But I'm sure you can coach me through it."

"Challenge accepted.” Cara slams her town onto the table, stand up and resolutely and absolutely unnecessarily rolls the shirt sleeves up her arms, uncovering a pair of stunning biceps that make din's mouth go dry. “I'll turn you into a professional cream pie maker."

"My brain _really_ wants to focus on the bakery side of this,” he chokes. “But Martin has other ideas."

"Tell Martin Clawdia is getting triggered, too,” she says, and something in her eyes tells Din she's probably way ahead of him as to dirty thoughts. “But we have a kid in here,” she points at Luca. “So let's stick to the bakery side... for now."

Din detects a promise in these words and certainly won't forget about it, but as of now he's quite content with the idea of turning his kitchen into a baking show.

It's messy, predictably, and, also predictably, extremely fun. Cara has no idea how vegan replacements work, and Din has no idea how to use them in a pie, so it takes several attempts and a lot of disasters before they can get the dough right. The preparation of the cream is even more complicated, and even more entertaining. Din doesn't know how they both end up with cream all over themselves, but he knows he hasn't had so much fun in a long, long time, and he would happily stretch this moment to no end, if he could, because Cara is simply breath-taking like this, messy hair and flour smudges all over her face, and the sound of her laughter warms his heart like only Luca's little smiles can.

They've just put the pie into the oven and are watching each other lick their fingers clean in a shameless obscenity contest when the door bell rings and forces them to grudgingly find some sort of composure.

Din has a hunch as he goes to open the door and isn't remotely surprised when he finds his neighbour from across the street standing in front of him with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Good morning, Omera," he greets as kindly as he can. He has run out of excuses to escape her invitations, but the good thing, now, is that he doesn't have to come up with one.

"Good morning, Din.” Omera tucks her hair behind an ear, looking up at him through her lashes. “Winta and I are making pancakes for breakfast, she wanted to know if you and Luca would like to join us."

"Oh. That's kind of you, but I, uh... I have guests."

Omera's eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh?"

As if on a cue, Cara materialises next to Din, as messy as he left her, her gloriously naked legs in full display for Omera to frown at.

"Hey,” Cara greets cheerfully.

"Omera, this is Cara. Cara, this is Omera, my neighbour."

Cara beams at her. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise,” says Omera, in a voice that conveys the exact opposite. She turns to Din inquiringly: “Did I interrupt something?"

"We were cooking."

Omera gives Cara an eloquent head-to-toe scan. "She cooks in her underwear?"

"I was teaching him how to make a cream pie,” Cara explains. She hooks an arm around Din's waist and he doesn't miss how this makes Omera's nostrils flare. “But he was a little too eager and... things got sticky all over."

 _Back with the innuendos,_ Din groans to himself. He's not sure he can keep a straight face in front of Omera.

"I was just trying to help her clean up," he clarifies.

"You got me all wet!"

“You were _asking_ for it!”

Omera is still regarding them with that light judgemental frown and Din feels _awful_ for being so amused by it.

"I see. Well, maybe you can join us for breakfast next Saturday?"

"Ah. We kinda have plans for next Saturday..."

"Oh?"

“We're eating out,” Cara announces, and Din needs to bite his tongue not to give in to the laugh pressing in his throat. “Din _loves_ eating out."

"Only with you," he replies softly. Cara looks at him like like she gets the implicit shred of seriousness in the game.

"You're so sweet,” she purrs. “Isn't he so sweet?”

Omera's eyebrows couldn't possibly climb any higher.

"Indeed,” she agrees unenthusiastically. “Well, I guess I'll leave you two to your...” Her eyes gingerly crawl up Cara's bare legs. _“Cooking."_

"It was a pleasure to meet you," says Cara.

"I'm sure it was."

Omera takes a step back, eyeing Cara with such distaste Din almost feels bad for putting her through this charade. _Almost._

The truth is that he likes playing with Cara more than his dignity allows him to admit.

They watch Omera walk away and retreat back into the house. Din exhales a sigh of relief: maybe now he can finally stop dodging awkward invitations.

"So,” Cara brings her hands to her hips. “What kind of _plans_ do we have next Saturday, exactly?"

Din rubs a hand behind his head.

"She's been trying to ask me out since I moved here three months ago."

"She seems very nice,” she objects, but that's absolutely irrelevant, so Din adds:

"And not remotely my type."

Cara tips her head to one shoulder with an intrigued grin.

"Yeah? And who's your type?"

"Cheeky little shits who like to embarrass me with double entendres in front of my neighbours, apparently,” he replies suavely. He grabs her hands and tugs her to himself. He hasn't stopped thinking about kissing her since that first kiss. Actually, he has been thinking about _a lot of things_ since that first kiss.

Cara slips her arms around his waist with a confidence that Din can feel his heart drop to the floor at her feet. She can have it: it's been hers all along, after all.

"Maybe I should go and tell sweet Omera we don't actually have any plans for next Saturday," she teases.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I _would."_

"No way."

Cara pulls him closer until their hips are pressed together. Din won't hold himself accountable for any reaction Martin might have from here.

"Stop me."

Din can't stifle a fond chuckle. "Is that a challenge or a request?"

And Cara... Cara does that thing with her lip under her teeth that always knocks the air out of Din's lungs. She suggestively slides her hands down to his ass and gives him a firm squeeze while whispering into his ear:

"Why not both?"

Din buries his face in her shoulder as he laughs, too happy and too aroused to come up with a reply witty enough to compete with hers.

He traces his lips along her neck and up, until he finds her lips again.

“Good enough to stop you?” he breathes.

Cara bends her head back and grips his shirt to drag him deeper into the kiss.

“Yeah,” she pants hoarsely, a smirk dancing on her mouth. “Good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it? Worth the wait? Should I add more installments to the series? Let me know! <3  
> BTW, don't be fooled by this productivity burst, I have a feeling it's not going to last. I'm having a couple of days off to recover from the madness of the last 50 days at work, so I guess I'm just venting some long repressed creativity. Bear with me. 😅
> 
> P.S. I hope you noticed the word count of this story is 6969. It seemed fitting. 😂

**Author's Note:**

> Part one down, part two to go. I have another oneshot in progress (angsty one, beware) and the second part of this, so I truly hope these couple of days of rest from the hell that has been work can grant me enough time to work on both.
> 
> I don't think this is as good as the first installment, but I really wanted to let these two idiots have their date, so here we are.
> 
> Comments are always love, you know that, right? ❤


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